


Alone I Never Knew

by chocoholicannanymous, pterawaters



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, runaways - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoholicannanymous/pseuds/chocoholicannanymous, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pterawaters/pseuds/pterawaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are three things Kurt knows about himself. One, he has impeccable taste in fashion. Two, there are only so many times one can listen to the Cats soundtrack without feeling the urge to kill. And three, Kurt will never be able to survive in Lima without his dad. Puck can feel how inevitably he's headed for all the bad things everyone has ever predicted for him. When he notices Kurt Hummel making plans to leave Lima, Puck knows that he has to convince Kurt to take him with. When getting out of Lima is the most important thing in the world, it doesn't even matter who you end up going with. At least that's what Puck thinks. The longer he and Kurt end up sticking together, them against the world, the harder it gets to tell themselves this is just a mutually beneficial arrangement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alone I Never Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by daughterofscotland. Fanmix and coverart by patchfire, found here: http://patchfire.livejournal.com/769964.html  
> We owe both you lovely beings a lot, but for the here and now: thank you.

** **

 

The silence is ridiculously loud. Too loud, yet not loud enough. It somehow manages to enhance the sound of labored breathing until each breath hits Kurt's eardrums like a cannon shot. He'd try to drown it out, but well. The radio's busted, and he can't listen to the one CD found in the nurses station one more time.

It's Cats.

If someone had told him he'd ever say that about Cats, Kurt would have laughed them straight in the face – as late as yesterday, even. It's one of his favorite musicals, because it was his mom's favorite. She'd played the soundtrack for him over and over, singing along in the kitchen and dancing in the living room, sharing the story of seeing the musical live in London a year and a half before Kurt was born. Cats is more than a musical to him – it's part of his life.

And now every single song makes him want to throw up.

He refuses to let the soundtrack of so many happy days with his mom also be the soundtrack of his dad dying. Because that's what's happening here. His dad is dying, slowly but surely.

Kurt bites back a sob. It'll be time for tears later, but for now... Now he needs to keep it together and be fully present in the here and now. These are – or so the hospital staff reluctantly told him – most likely his last hours ever with his dad, and Kurt will not let them be marred by tears.

Instead he sits next to the bed, holds his dad's hand, runs his thumb across scars and callouses and wedding band, and talks. He talks about days spent in the garage, about cooking together, about everything and anything. He stops talking occasionally, only to sing instead, and then he talks again. Anything to drown out the silence and the breathing.

Until there's only silence, and Kurt's voice falters, breaks off mid-sentence. It's over.

His hand tightens for a second, and then lets go. It's time.

There are footsteps out in the hallway, and Kurt know he only has seconds before they'll be here and he'll be forced to leave. It's okay, because this room no longer holds anything of value for him. Well. There is one thing. His dad's ring. He removes it with only a little guilt and places it on the chain around his neck that already holds his mom's rings. If he can't have his parents, which he can't, then at least he can have this one little piece of them.

As the room fills and the silence breaks Kurt walks out quietly. His last reason to stay in Lima is gone, and soon he will be as well.

People will berate him for not staying for the funeral, claim that it makes him cold-hearted. Mercedes, as much as he loves her, will be one of them.

The thing is, unlike most of those people, Kurt has already buried a parent. He knows that what happens in church, and in the cemetery, has nothing to do with it. The cemetery is where you deposit a body. Church is where empty words are supposed to make things better, while pushing a belief Kurt simply does not share.

It's a fight to remember the good things while being crushed under the reality of never again, and assaulted by platitudes and demands to conform.

Kurt refuses to put himself through that again. He's said goodbye to his dad already, while holding his still warm hand and telling his still breathing body “I love you”. He's said his goodbye in song, and in his heart. Those are all the goodbyes he needs.

As for remembering, that will have to wait until he's safely out of Lima.

And that, right there, is another excellent reason for not staying behind to attend the funeral. He's been lucky so far, with the hospital “missing” to report his circumstances to Child Services, and McKinley failing to do the same – because it is a failure, just as it was with Quinn the year before, and the fact that Kurt has benefited from it doesn't change anything. However, with his dad dead instead of “just” hospitalized and in a coma, that's going to change. A change that will not be for the better.

Kurt knows that there's no way he'll be allowed to become an emancipated minor. If his birthday was closer, maybe, but as it is it won't happen. Carole may or may not step forward and offer to take him in, but. First of all things are hard enough on her as it is, being a single parent to a teenage boy. Taking in another? That would be a considerable strain on her finances. Not to mention how Finn would react. Yes, they've mended some fences over the past couple of days, but far from all, and living together would be anything but comfortable.

Mr and Mr Berry might also be amenable to letting him stay, and unlike Carole they'd have the resources to do so. But. Rachel was his friend, true, but only as far as it benefited her. If she thought having Kurt gone would serve Rachel Berry better than having him remain, then there would be no way she'd allow her dads to take him in.

Either way, the chances of Kurt being allowed to stay there are minuscule. Two gay men taking in a teenage boy? A gay teenage boy to boot? Not in Lima.

There's Mercedes of course, and when he'd first thought this through Kurt had been certain he'd be offered a place in her family. After all, they'd taken Quinn in without thinking twice, and Kurt's supposed to be her best friend. But that certainty had shriveled into nothing as days passed and Mercedes's silence stretched out, only to be broken by her attempts to push religion on him.

She'd known – she has to have known – that he'd been on his own. If she'd truly cared about helping  ** him ** , an invitation to dinner, or a bed in a house where other people lived and breathed, would have been a good way to go. Instead all she'd done was pray and sing hymns. Maybe that had comforted her, but it had done nothing for Kurt.  _ Religion in a nutshell. _

Besides, it's all moot anyway. First of all because there's no way in hell Kurt is willing to stay in Lima without his dad, his shield, the one person in the entire town he can fully trust.

Second he's got living family, and to some people blood trumps everything. Up to and including the fact that Kurt would rather live on the street than with his alcoholic aunt and her homophobic husband. No one will care. And that's what made up Kurt's mind. If he's going to be forced away from his home, and his friends anyway, to live somewhere he's bound to be unhappy, well... He might as well leave on his own.

And so he will. It feels like such a cliché, being a gay teenager running away, but there's a reason clichés exist, and that's true for this scenario as well. He can't stay, and so he has to leave. He won't be allowed to, of course, and so he's running away.

It's going to be hard, and lonely, but Kurt will be fine. After all, he's used to going at it alone.  _ Only not  _ _** this ** _ _ much alone _ his mind whispers, and Kurt ruthlessly pushes it down. He'll be  ** fine ** . He has to be.

 

o--O---O--o

  
  


Puck curls his hands around the foil-covered plate he’s carrying, trying his best not to drop it. He knows his Mom is going to be pissed about him stealing the plate, but he hopes she’ll understand when he explains why he took it – and that she’s probably going to get it back. After all, Kurt is one of the most responsible guys in school. He always turns in all his assignments, so that means he’ll return the plate when he’s done with it, right?

Turning from the main street onto Kurt’s road, Puck shuffles along and straightens the foil again and hopes he’s not setting himself up for another failure. At lunch, Kurt’s always talking about fancy French-sounding foods. What if he doesn’t like cupcakes? He probably won’t like the cupcakes.

Fuck.

It’s just, Puck doesn’t know how to make anything else.

He remembers when his Nana Connie was dying and everyone kept coming by with food. There was even more food in the day between when she finally kicked the bucket, and when they buried her. So Puck figures that’s just what you do when someone is really sick. You bring food.

Puck doesn’t know if a gesture like this cancels out anything important. He’s not even sure it’ll do anything to quell this anxious feeling he’s had in his chest ever since his daughter was born. After he signed away his rights to Beth (and even before, if he’s being honest with himself), Puck had tried to be a better person. A person little Beth would be proud of.

The be-a-better-person plan went alright over the summer. He helped out his mom more often. He tried not to lie in his room, looking up at the ceiling for more than an hour or two a day. He’d made all his pool-cleaning appointments. He’d worked out regularly, to keep in shape for football. He’d been good.

Now that the school year has started again, and glee has started again, and there’s all these comments the guys don’t dare say around Finn, but say under their breath when they know Puck can hear them – now that there’s  _ that _ , Puck feels himself slipping back into bad habits.

He’s spent a lot of time fantasizing about punching some of the guys that make those comments. He’s fantasized about setting the new football coach’s car on fire. He spent one whole evening plotting ways to get rid of Mr. Schue’s body, and Puck kinda  _ likes _ Mr. Schue. Just yesterday, Puck imagined what it would be like if he pulled his truck into oncoming traffic.

It’s the reason he’s on foot today, too god damned scared of himself to drive around like a normal person.

Looking up, Puck sees Kurt’s truck in the driveway of his house, the tailgate open. That’s weird. And then, as he gets closer, Puck notices Kurt coming out of the house, a box in hand. Kurt puts the box in the back of the Navigator, shoving it as far in as it will go, and then he starts back toward the house before spotting Puck.

Kurt stops short and says, “Puck. What are you doing here?”

Before he loses his nerve, Puck thrusts the plate toward Kurt. “Here.”

Raising an eyebrow, Kurt takes the plate and lifts up one edge of the foil. He licks his lower lip quickly – a nervous gesture, Puck’s sure. “Oh, Puck. You didn’t have–”

“ They’re vanilla,” Puck says quickly, gesturing toward the plate with one hand and scratching behind his ear with the other. “They’re not poisoned or anything, and they’re good. I taste-tested like five of those suckers.”

Kurt laughs, but not as hard as he should, and his smile looks so pained, Puck thinks  _ he _ just might start crying if he has to look at it much longer. “Thank you, Puck,” Kurt says, pulling the foil over the cupcakes. Damn. Puck was hoping he’d try one of them, just so Puck knew he’d done this whole being-friends-thing right.

Maybe he’s not hungry.

For lack of anything better to do, Puck looks into the back of the Navigator. Instead of one or two boxes, like Puck had been expecting, there’s at least ten stacked up, with room for many more. He wonders what Kurt could need with so many boxes, and then he sees the labels. “Clothes”, “Books”, “Music”. There are others that don’t have labels, but Puck would bet good money they have labels on the sides facing away from him.

Kurt is moving.

Why would Kurt move while his dad’s in the hospital?

Are the hospital bills too expensive? Is Kurt moving in with Finn and Carole to save on rent or whatever it is that people who own their houses pay? Is Kurt moving away from Lima? Ma always says if anything happens to her, Puck and Lillian would have to move to Kansas City to live with her asshole brother and his family.

Which means something has happened to Mr Hummel.

Kurt’s dad is dead.

“ Fuck,” Puck mutters, following after Kurt as the other boy heads back toward the house. “Kurt!”

Kurt doesn’t turn back toward Puck, but his back straightens out a little, squaring his shoulders like he has to in order to keep himself upright. He takes a few more steps toward the house, before Puck catches him by the arm.

The plate of cupcakes slips from Kurt’s grasp and lands on the cement steps to the house, cracking loudly and spilling its contents out onto the ground. “Let go of me,” Kurt says softly, his eyes on Puck’s shoulder, instead of on his face.

Puck releases his grip on Kurt’s arm. “Sorry, dude.”

Sniffling a little, Kurt crouches down and pulls the foil away from the mess on the pavement. “Look at this!”

Crouching down beside Kurt, Puck keeps his hands to himself this time as he asks, “Where are you going? Who’s taking you in?”

Instead of answering, Kurt presses his lips together and begins gathering up the cupcakes. A few of them landed upright, still edible, but the majority are smashed against the sharp edges of the broken plate and against the pavement.

“ Is it far away?” Puck asks, shuffling to the side to try to get into Kurt’s line of sight. “When are you leaving?”

“ Go home, Puck,” Kurt says, handing one of the still-whole cupcakes to Puck, and then gathering up the rest of the mess into a giant pile of Puck’s ruined feat of good will.

Kurt didn’t even save one for himself.

“ Shit, are you leaving  _ now _ ?” Puck asks, following Kurt into the house. Kurt glares over his shoulder as soon as Puck breaches the threshold, but he doesn’t tell Puck to beat it, so Puck doesn’t let up. “You’re not even going to stick around for the funeral?”

Kurt dumps the cupcake-and-plate pile into the trash can in the kitchen and goes to the sink. His hands are shaking as he rinses them.

The non-answer is answer enough.

“Who are you going to live with?” Puck asks again. He's not sure why it's so important that he knows, only that it  ** is ** important. “You can stay at my house until the funeral. They can't make you miss it!”

“Nobody's making me miss it,” Kurt says, sprinkling water droplets as he throws his hands wide. One of them hits Puck on the cheek, but Puck ignores it. Kurt searches the room for a moment before wiping his hands on a cheery yellow kitchen towel. 

Puck frowns, watching Kurt wring his hands in the towel like he's not sure what to do after he's done with that task. “Kurt. Who's taking you in?”

Kurt sets his jaw and stares Puck right in the eye for a long moment. With a scoff, he passes Puck on his way back toward the living room, doing a fair impression of a body check.

“Who would want me?”

Puck gets it. Kurt isn't moving in with some relative. Kurt is running away. He’s getting out of this shitty town, now that there’s nothing left for him here. Not that there’s ever been anything here for most of them, but Puck figures even less so for Kurt.

Puck means to wish Kurt good luck, but what comes out of his mouth is, “Let me come with you.”

“ _ What _ ?” Kurt cries, turning and almost bumping into the sofa. “Why would  _ you _ want to come with  _ me _ ?”

Puck opens his mouth, but he hasn’t exactly thought this through beyond this clawing voice between his ears that’s been whispering  _ get out get out get out _ ever since his dad left, really.

“ Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Kurt says with another scoff. He crosses his arms over his chest and cuts his eyes toward the door. “Get out of here, Puck. And don’t even think of telling anyone.”

“ How’re you going to stop me?” Puck asks, following Kurt. “You won’t even make it as far as Delphos before the police put out an alert. You think they won’t be able to find you?”

Kurt stops on the stairs and turns back toward Puck, fury and fear in equal parts on his face. “Puck!”

Puck licks his lips nervously. The more he thinks about this plan, the better it looks. “Look, I’m no snitch. You know that."

Brows furrowed, Kurt nods slowly. 

“But I am somewhat of a criminal in training.” Puck mirrors Kurt's posture, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a step or two closer. The way Kurt widens his eyes is satisfying, but not exactly what Puck's going for here. Puck stops moving forward, leaving a good ten feet between the two of them. “Which means I have the skills to actually get us out of here.”

With a sigh, Kurt breaks eye contact, looking off to the side and biting his lip. When he turns back, he asks, “How? What's your plan?”

“If I tell you, what's to stop you from leaving without me?” Puck asks. No way is he letting Kurt Hummel steal his escape plans. That would just be embarrassing.

Cocking out his hip and putting one hand on it, Kurt asks, “If this plan of yours is so great, why haven't you used it yet?”

Puck opens his mouth before he realizes he doesn't have a good answer. The longer he fails to respond, the more Puck feels like Kurt is about to ridicule him. Eventually, he just says the words on the tip of his tongue, “I was scared.”  _ Shit _ . Puck never  ** ever ** admits to being scared.

“Oh,” Kurt replies, miraculously not laughing at Puck. Instead, Kurt's face softens, not quite in pity, but maybe like Kurt knows exactly how Puck feels. Puck's not used to that expression being directed at him, especially during this last year.

It makes Puck give up another little piece of information, but it's all in the service of the bigger goal, right? “I wanted to be Beth's dad, you know? I thought if I stuck around, I'd get to see her. But Shelby hasn't returned my calls.” He sighs, tightening his arms around himself. “So, there's nothing left here for me, either.”

Kurt looks at Puck for a long moment, and Puck doesn't want to hope too much that Kurt's about to crack, because he doesn't want to face that disappointment. It turns out he doesn't have to, because the next thing Kurt asks is, “How fast can you pack?”

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Kurt spends the first half-hour in the car questioning both his judgment and his sanity. The plan was to get away from Lima, and to make sure no one could stop him. That's why he decided to miss his dad's funeral, that's why he chose to not say goodbye to anyone, that's why he's had everything he wants to bring packed up for a week and the essentials hidden in the car for just as long.

It's also why he chose not to call Carole, not to tell her about his dad.

He feels ashamed about that, he really does. Regardless of everything, Carole had truly cared for his dad, just as Burt had cared for her. Under better circumstances Kurt believes they'd have stayed together, and that the four of them would have become as family.

It would have been amazing, he thinks. If only. Instead Carole and Finn will stay their own little family, while Kurt... Kurt will be alone. Because while two people can be a family, even broken, one person can't. One person can only be alone.

Just because he's used to it doesn't mean that Kurt wants to be alone.

And, he thinks, looking over at the resolute, tense boy in the seat next to him, neither does Puck. There's a desperation in his eyes, one Kurt recognizes, and it carries over to his entire body.

And  ** that ** is why he agreed to let Puck come along, when he could easily have refused, and left without him. He doesn't owe Puck anything, teammates or not – no matter how much better they get along these days. In fact, he'd say that a year of dumpster tosses would argue both the opposite and that letting Puck come along is an awful idea.

But when push comes to shove, Puck is just as desperate as Kurt, and needs to leave and start over just as badly. Left to his own devices in Lima, Puck will self-destruct. Maybe he won't self-harm in a physical manner, or try to commit suicide (though looking at the boy now Kurt wouldn't swear on that) but he will hurt himself. Getting out is as much of a salvation for Puck as it is for Kurt, meaning leaving him behind is not something Kurt can, in good conscience, do.

Besides, Puck  ** does ** have a point. He knows more about the kind of things they need to stay under the radar that Kurt does, research be damned. And well, the way Puck looks won't exactly hurt. For once Kurt's appreciation of another boy's looks has nothing to do with sexual attraction, and everything with practicality.

For all that Puck is a few months younger than Kurt, he looks older. He also doesn't look like easy prey, unlike Kurt. The chances of not getting robbed – or worse – are looking a lot better with Puck on board. The fact that with two of them they can share the driving, and maybe also drive through the night instead of stopping for sleep, is also a bonus.

Puck's plan – that's still undisclosed by the way – is just even more of a bonus. Not that he's telling him that. Nope.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


As it turns out, Puck's plan includes a lengthy stop in an out of the way place that gives Kurt some serious bad vibes. Still, it's worth it. Kurt leaves with a new fake ID that looks so real it takes him back, and a set of new plates for the Nav. It takes more of his cash than he'd like, but not as much as he feared. Puck's a good negotiator when it comes to these things, apparently.

Kurt can't help but wonder what's in the package Puck walked out with, but he's not willing to snoop. If Puck spent money on it, then clearly it matters to him. Besides, it's not like Puck brought much. When asking how quickly he could pack, Kurt hadn't expected Puck to be in and out of his apartment in eight minutes, only carrying a half-empty backpack, a duffel bag and his guitar.

 

Six hours after leaving Lima it's dark and Kurt's exhausted. Scratch that, he thinks, after glancing at Puck. Both of them are.  _ So much for driving through the night, I guess _ . Only, he's willing to admit that was probably never a good idea anyway. He can sleep sitting in a moving car, yes, but not that well, and his body hates him afterwards.

Besides, today's been draining. Again, for both of them. Puck might not have lost everything, like Kurt did, but he did give it all up. Kurt saw the look in Puck's eyes, and more importantly the pain, when he returned to the car after packing. Hope's the last thing to die, and Kurt imagines that some part of Puck still clings to the hope of being allowed to see Beth. It's not healthy, Kurt thinks.

Staying clearly isn't an option for Puck either. Not if he wants to reach adulthood in one piece.

Finding a place to stop really is for the best. The Nav is their safe space and escape vehicle right now, so crashing because they're stupid would be a seriously backlash. Plus...

“ Let's find some food, okay? I'm starving. And, no offense, but you look as beat as I feel. We need to eat, and find a place to park where we can sleep. I don't know about you, but I'm not sure I'll be able to function much longer.”

“ You want us to sleep in the car?”

“ Yeah. I have some blankets and such, and if we fold down the second row of seats there'll be room for both of us to bed down. It'll be a little cramped with all the packing, and it won't be super comfortable, but it'll work. It's free, and the chances of us being spotted are small. If you prefer, you can sleep in the passenger seat, but I doubt it'll be that comfortable.”

Kurt shrugs and tries to look nonchalant. He's not, not by any measure. He just doesn't want to show his fear.

A huge part, to him, about the arrangement not being that “comfortable” – and god, understatement much – is sharing that small a space with Puck. The other boy has gotten better, a lot better even, but he's made it obvious over the years that he's not comfortable with Kurt's sexuality. He's tired of being seen as predatory, but he's also plain tired.

Puck can sleep in a seat if he's afraid of getting that close to Kurt.  _ More space for me then _ , Kurt thinks and tries not to be bitter. Having someone near him would be comforting, he knows, but. He'll rather be lonely than get beat up.

Not that he really thinks Puck will beat him up for something like this, but old habits sadly die hard. And these particular habits? Have been beaten into Kurt over several years.

“ Okay.”

And apparently that's it.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Kurt wakes up slowly. His body's heavy, and his head feels the same. Oh, and apparently Mercedes has abandoned her mattress on the floor in favor of his bed. Again. Maybe it's time he stopped trying to be diplomatic when telling her he's not comfortable with that.

He's especially not comfortable with the way she's turned into an octopus overnight. Hugging is great. Being held in place and cuddled halfway to death? Not so much. He  ** clearly ** needs to stop being diplomatic.

Kurt stretches a bit, and the arms around him tightens a bit – both of which makes it more than clear he needs to go to the bathroom. And then he freezes. Because that? Is not Mercedes's arm.

And then it all comes back.

  
  


A thirty second visit to a convenient bush becomes ten minutes as Kurt breaks down a little.

  
  


He doesn't mention the cuddling. Puck doesn't either, so why play with fire? The problem is that having kept quiet the first time makes it practically impossible to say anything when it happens the next night as well. Besides, it's obviously  ** Puck ** moving, and  ** Puck ** initiating the cuddling. That means Kurt can point the finger at him, should Puck wake up and notice.

And if part of Kurt wants to not say anything so he can keep the cuddles? It's comforting, and it's something Kurt needs right now. It's still risky, no doubt. But. It's also worth it.

  
  


They get into a routine. While they could push ahead and reach their destination in half the time it's taking them, that's not the choice they've made. Back roads, sights, early nights, lazy food stops. It's quiet – they don't talk much, nor do they really sing along to the radio – and contemplative, and it's what they need. They're hurting, and need the time to patch themselves up a bit before facing the rest of their lives.

The fifth morning that Kurt wakes up with Puck all over him is a little different. First of all it's probably going to be the last morning they wake up in the Nav. Not to mention together.

They've almost reached their crossroads, so to speak. It's another two or three hours to Salt Lake City, and then another twelve or so hours to Portland, which is the destination Kurt has picked out. (You don't get that much further from Lima, not without leaving the country, and it's both small enough that he should be okay and big enough for him to hide in.) Puck on the other hand has been talking about LA, and Kurt has made it clear that he's more than willing to drop him off there but that he's not staying there.

That means if Puck wants to, they'll turn southwest at Salt Lake City to head for LA, and then they'll have another day maybe together before splitting up, and then Kurt will be alone again. That... Well, it sucks. He's gotten used to Puck's presence, and to be honest, he's not sure how much of this whole holding himself together thing he'll manage once he's alone.

The other difference – the huge one – is that Kurt doesn't wake up and sneak out. He doesn't get the chance, because Puck wakes up too. He stares into the other boy's wide brown eyes, practically paralyzed at first, and then Kurt squeaks and scurries out.

When he returns a couple of minutes later, Puck's a little pink, and won't meet his eyes.

“ I'm sorry, okay, I didn't mean to, you know. Molest you or anything. I just, I'm used to being allowed to touch the person I'm sharing a bed with.”

Kurt just stares, mouth open. Puck's  ** apologizing ** ?  ** Puck ** is apologizing? This is so not what Kurt thought would happen.

“ Oh, ehm, it's, it's okay.” And then, because Puck looks so guilty, and still won't look him in the eye, Kurt adds, “it was kind of nice to wake up warm and not alone. So you don't have to apologize.

“ Anyway, am I still dropping you off in LA?”

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Puck doesn't know why he said he wanted to go to LA. He thinks maybe because that's where everyone who wants to make something of themselves heads to. It's not like Puck  ** knows  ** anyone in LA. The only person he knows who's currently west of the Mississippi is Kurt.

The more Puck thinks about it, the more he shudders at the thought of going to LA by himself. He'll probably have to end up selling his body or something, just so he doesn't end up living on the street. Shaking his head, Puck tries to sound nonchalant as he says, "Nah. I don't got enough money to live in LA by myself yet. Not even sure I can swing it in Portland. You know how it is."

Kurt's eyes widen and he nods slowly. "Right." He clears his throat, looking down at his hands. "Um, how much money do you have left, if you don't mind my asking?"

Narrowing his eyes at Kurt, Puck tries to figure out  ** why ** Kurt might be asking. Puck's first guess is that maybe Kurt's worried about Puck. Then Puck mentally kicks himself, because he's just letting the nice feelings he got from sleeping all curled up with Kurt cloud his judgement. Kurt doesn't care about Puck. He's just looking out for himself, trying to figure out how much money Puck has. 

Oh, Puck doesn't think Kurt would try to steal the cash from him. After all, anytime this week Kurt could've driven off with all of Puck's worldly possessions and left him stranded in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. No, if Kurt's motivations are financial, he's probably just trying to figure out how much they'd have if they pooled their money together. Went halfsies on a motel room or something until they find jobs and can split up.

"How much do  ** you ** have left," Puck counters, throwing in his best charming smile to help lower Kurt's guard, "if you don't mind me asking?"

Kurt chuckles, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Fifteen hundred, give or take." Pursing his lips together, he wraps his arms around himself. "How far do you think I could stretch that money? In Portland? Do you think?"

Puck gets the impression that Kurt's not lying at all. He says he's got fifteen hundred. He's probably got exactly that. If he was smarter, he'd tell Puck he had much less than that, because now he's left himself open. God, Kurt  ** trusts ** Puck, and Puck's the guy who bullied him not that long ago. How much trust is Kurt going to put in a stranger who insists he's a friend?

No, that won't do at all. Puck came on this trip to get out of trouble, but he cannot, in good conscience, let one of  ** his ** people get beat up on and broken down. As it is, Kurt is Puck's  ** only  ** person, now that he's left everyone else behind. If Kurt needs Puck (even if he doesn't know it yet), it's Puck's duty to stay and protect him.

"It'll go further if we pool our resources," Puck replies, picking up his boots from the floor of the Nav and pulling them on. "Find ourselves a cheapo apartment, save on rent until we've worked long enough to have first and last on our own places. Cool?"

For a terrifying second, Puck is sure Kurt is going to shoot him down. Puck's workshopping ways to convince Kurt that they need to stick together, without having to resort to begging, when Kurt nods. "Cool," he says with a smile and a decisive nod. "Where do you think you'll work?" he asks as he closes the back door and climbs into the driver's seat.

Puck slides out of the back himself, and sits in the passenger seat, pulling his door closed behind him with a resonant thump. "How many pools do you think Portland has?"

Shrugging, Kurt starts the car. "I don't know. I'm kind of thinking coffee shop for me."

Puck scoffs. 

"What?" Kurt asks, frowning half at Puck and half at the road. "If you don't think I can make a latte with the best of them, you're sorely mistaken."

"No, it's not that," Puck says, pulling down his seatbelt and buckling it before the Nav starts complaining at him for not wearing it. Again. "I just always pictured you in a fancier job. Like in an office or something."

Kurt tilts his head. "Yeah, maybe. I did have dreams of becoming a fashion editor one day." He sighs. "Now, though…"

The sad, tired look on Kurt's face makes Puck want to punch something. "You could still do that," Puck insists.

Kurt turns out of the lot where they'd parked overnight and back out onto the road. "What's the point? It's not like my dad's going to see it and say he's proud of me."

"The point?" Puck laughs, leaning closer to Kurt. "The point is to prove all those motherfuckers back in Lima that you're better than them. That's the point."

With a thoughtful hum, Kurt says, "You make a good argument." He flashes a quick, almost predatory smile in Puck's direction before turning his eyes back toward the road.

_ Fuck, that's … ,  _ Puck thinks, the weird feeling in his stomach getting in the way of whatever word his brain was trying to come up with. Puck settles for  _ badass _ , but he's not quite sure that's the missing word.

"How about you, Puck?" Kurt asks, more cheerful now that he's been most of the week. Puck tries not to take responsibility for the improvement in Kurt's mood, but it's difficult. "If pool cleaning doesn't work out, what kind of job would you get?"

"Whatever," Puck replies. "Maybe bartender. My nana taught me how to mix drinks."

Kurt laughs, but it's a happy sound, devoid of any derision Puck might have gotten from anyone else for admitting that fact about his nana. She might not have been the most rule-abiding person in the world, but she was a hell of a lady, and Puck's not ashamed to admit that he misses her.

"I think you'd be good at tending bar," Kurt says, giving Puck an encouraging nod and smile. "At least until you figure out your bigger dream."

Puck wants to say that he doesn't  ** have ** any bigger dreams, that getting out of Lima was enough, but he knows that's not technically true. Puck likes being up on stage. He likes playing guitar and he likes singing. He's not delusional. Puck knows the likelihood of becoming famous one day is non-existent. "Maybe something with music," he says out loud, turning to face out the passenger-side window at the flat Wyoming scrub land. 

"Something with music would be nice," Kurt replies softly. 

It would be nice. That doesn't mean it's something Puck gets to have.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Puck takes a sip of his coffee as he scans down the apartment listings in The Portland Tribune. When Kurt, freshly showered, sits down across the tiny motel-room table from him, Puck says, "Most of these apartments cost at least 800."

"A  ** month ** ?" Kurt asks, incredulous as he takes his towel down off his head and starts rubbing his hair dry. "And they all expect us to have first month's rent, last month's rent,  ** and ** a security deposit?"

Puck frowns and takes a bite of his Egg McMuffin, shoving another one over toward Kurt. "Yeah. That's like two thousand bucks, easy. We won't have anything left for food."

"Or gas," Kurt adds, pulling the paper closer to himself and craning his neck so he can read it. "What about this one? Says it's 650 a month."

"That's a studio," Puck points out. "Means it's probably smaller than this shitty motel room." He raises his eyebrow and looks pointedly around at their one-bed, 50-bucks-a-night, barely-running-water room.

"Smaller would be okay if it was nicer," Kurt says, wrinkling his nose at his towel and then picking up his breakfast and unwrapping it. 

Puck shrugs and leans over to unplug his phone from its charger. "Might as well give them a call, go see the place."

Kurt says something with his mouth full, and Puck figures from the general tone that Kurt's not arguing, so he dials the number.

An hour later, they're standing outside a short apartment building. It's three or four stories tall, and still it dwarfs the bicycle shop next door. For some reason, Puck figured downtown Portland would have taller buildings. Maybe he's spent too much time watching TV shows that take place in New York. "This looks okay," he says to Kurt.

Kurt hums and says, "Let's save our judgment for  ** after ** we see the inside."

"Good call," Puck says, still looking up at the building when a voice calls out.

"Yoohoo! Noah, is it?" An older woman with short gray hair and a big gray sweater is leaning out of the front door. "Come on in, you two!"

Puck shares a glance with Kurt before leading the way toward the building and letting the lady shake his hand.

"My name is Lorraine, and I'm the manager for this building, and a few others. You said over the phone you were interested in the studio apartment?"

"Uh, yeah," Puck replies, following Lorraine to the rickety-looking elevator in the foyer. "We can't really afford anything bigger."

Lorraine sticks her hand out at Kurt. "And what's your name, dear?"

"Kurt," he tells her, with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise!" She presses the button for the third floor and the elevator doors close, almost ominously.

Puck takes a step closer to Kurt.

"As I said over the phone, since you don't have a credit history, we do need first and last month's rent, as well as a modest security deposit. I think you'll find that it's not too unaffordable, after all. What line of work are you boys in?"

"Bartending," Puck says, without really thinking about it. What he does think is that maybe he should've found a job before even dreaming about getting out of that motel. "Kurt's in coffee."

"How nice!"

When they get into the apartment, it's cleaner than Puck expected. Brighter, too. The living space is bigger than their hotel room, especially if you include the galley kitchen. The bathroom has an actual tub.

Kurt spins around in the main room a few times and then grabs onto Puck's arm. "Can we get it? I want to get it."

Lorraine laughs. "You two are just the cutest couple!" Puck's still trying to process the fact that Lorraine thinks he and Kurt are a  ** couple ** , when Lorraine hands a thin stack of papers to Kurt. "Here's an application. Get it back to me as soon as you're ready. I'm sure this unit is going to go fast."

Puck sees Kurt's reeled in by Lorraine's spiel, but Puck isn't quite as impressed. He knows she's just saying that to get them to hurry on the paperwork. Still, Puck knows they won't have enough money for the deposits if they stay in the hotel more than another night or two.

"Thanks," Puck says, taking Kurt by the elbow and guiding him toward the door. "We'll let you know soon!"

Puck finds the stairs a few doors down from what he's already thinking of as  _ their new place _ , and heads down them, checking to make sure Kurt's following.

"What was that all about?" Kurt asks. "Are you upset she thought we were dating?"

"No," Puck replies, and he finds that he's really not bothered. What does it matter what some old lady thinks? "I'm thinking we need to find jobs, quick, so our application doesn't get rejected."

"Right," Kurt says, following Puck down the final flight of stairs, through the foyer, and back out onto the street. "First jobs we can stand, and then move over into something more palatable from there?"

"Sure thing," Puck agrees, holding out his fist.

It takes Kurt a moment, but eventually he gets the idea and bumps his fist against Puck's. Kurt's smile is broad, and it makes Puck smile in turn, ignoring the way his stomach flops around.

He thinks, as long as their fake identities hold well enough to get jobs, they might actually be able to pull this off.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


It doesn't even take Puck – or Noah now, Kurt guesses – an hour to get a job. It's part-time, sure, but the pay is enough to cover rent and the owner tells Puck that if things work out there's the option of more hours.

Kurt feels petty, but he's more jealous about it than he wants to admit, especially since the money will benefit him too. It's just, he's gone after  ** everything ** , but at the end of the day all he has managed is a paper round on the weekends. It's better than nothing, and the money will pay for extra food, just. It sucks. It's that simple.

Still, his lack of luck doesn't get in the way of them getting the apartment, and they spend that evening moving in. They don't have much, not even with Kurt having packed everything he could both justify and fit in the Nav, but they'll get by for now.

Except...

“ We're going to have to go shopping.”

The words are dripping with disgust, and Kurt sees shock spread over Puck's face. Oh, he knows why: he loves shopping, and there's no way Puck could have missed that. However, Kurt also knows how to keep a budget, and that's what they're going to have to do right now. Meaning he  ** really ** doesn't want to spend money on anything other than rent and food. Only they're going to have to, aren't they? Because he didn't plan on company, and Puck... Well, Puck didn't plan on much at all, did he?

“ Why?”

“ Because I only brought one mattress, and now there are two of us. I didn't think, or we would have taken another, because that's money we shouldn't be spending.

“ You're the only one with an actual job so far, and while it's great you got that one, it won't pay for much more than rent. Not right now.  ** My ** sorry excuse for a job doesn't exactly pay well, and what I do get from that kind of needs to go towards food, because while I brought everything that would survive the trip it won't really be enough for a healthy diet.

“ That means we've got, what? Fifty bucks?”

“ More like one-fifty, but yeah.”

“ Right, one-fifty plus whatever I make in order to supplement food, and having to spend part of it on furniture? Not exactly what I was hoping on.”

Kurt sighs. There is one more option, it's just not one he wants to use, for a number of reasons. He doesn't even want to mention it, but they are in this together right now.

“ The only other resource we have is the Nav, and I'd rather not sell it. Doing so would leave us completely without transportation, and while I don't see a lot of driving in our future,” as it didn't look like they would be able to afford gas on a regular basis, “I'd like the option. Plus, worst case scenario, we know it's possible to sleep there. I mean, I'd rather not, at least not during the winter, but. Again, I'd like to have that to fall back on.”

There was also the emotional reasons, like the fact that his dad had given him the Nav, had restored it with love and great care so his only child would have a good, safe car, and the fact that they'd worked together on it several times. It was a link to his dad, no matter how insignificant, and Kurt loathed the thought of giving that up unless it was an absolute emergency.

Judging by the way Puck was looking at him, Kurt thought he understood that part too.

“ Yeah, no, I don't think we should do that. Not for something like that. Especially not since the kind of guys that'd buy a car like that from a teenager without asking questions we don't want to answer would rip you off.”

And yes, there was that too. A serious buyer would definitely spot the fake plates, and that would be it.

“ Just, there's one thing I don't understand.

“ Why do we have to buy another mattress? We could keep sharing the one we already have.”

And that... Kurt pinches himself in the thigh, where Puck won't see, if it's not an hallucination – it's not – and just stares, barely keeping his mouth from falling open. Is he  ** serious ** ?

“ Look, I've felt like crap – have for months, ever since... Regionals.” Because apparently mentioning Beth hurts. Noted. “And these past few nights? I've slept better than in a really long time. Having another person close, it helps. Even if I dream... Having someone close grounds me when I wake up. Helps me know 'when' I am, you get it?

“ And maybe I thought you could use that too.”

Having that come out of Puck's mouth feels strange. Kurt's not used to seeing him like this, emotional and open. It's like seeing a completely different person.

The thing is, Puck is also right. So far Kurt's kept it together, but that's not going to continue. The walls he's thrown up between himself and his emotions are still holding, yes, but they'll crumble soon enough.  ** He ** will crumble. And being close to another person does help.

(Kurt hates that he knows that, that he has the experience to tell him that.)

There's just one problem with all of this, and it's not a small one either.

“ You have a point about closeness, but, Puck... I honestly don't think it's a good idea. I'm not trying to be mean or anything here, but are you sure you could do this? Aren't you afraid–”

“– that what? You'll jump me? I'll 'catch the gay'?”

Kurt shrugs. Either. Both. He's been burned enough by Lima for it to be impossible to overlook those scenarios. He's well-practiced – or as much so as a 17 year old can be – in the art of keeping his body and its reactions hidden, but he  ** is ** a healthy teenage boy and that close? There  ** will ** be reactions, and they won't stay hidden.

“ Would you believe that I've actually grown up some in the past two years?" Puck asks. "Freshman me joined in on all that shit for every stupid reason you can think of – I was a dumbass brat, desperate to find a spot to belong and some status, and I was angry at the world. And yeah, I had a case of Lima homophobia. I didn't understand better.

“ And then I joined Glee.

“ I'm not saying I get it completely now, or that I'm a changed person, because that's not true. But I  ** am ** better. I  ** know ** better. And a huge part of that is because spending a year with you showed me you weren't anything like that. I guess in a way you reminded me that there's more to being gay than Sandy Ryerson.”

If there's one person in Lima Kurt wants to see run over by a truck, it's Sandy Ryerson. Not even the worst of his bullies invoke the kind of hate in him that Ryerson does. The man gives gay men everywhere a bad name just by existing, and Kurt  ** hates ** him with the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

To be connected to him in any way at all makes Kurt a little sick.

At the same time, if  ** that's ** who Puck thinks of when he thinks of gay men? A lot of things begin to make sense then.

“ I forgot about going to Temple with the Berrys my whole life, and how they weren't anything like him, or like the shit people spread around, and you helped me remember.

“ So no, I don't think you'd jump me – in fact I'm pretty sure I'm the one who's been starting the cuddling so far,” and is that a blush? It is! “and as for 'catching' anything, I know I can't. So?”

Kurt hesitates. It's a big decision, in it's way maybe even bigger than agreeing to let Puck come along in the first place.

“ You  ** really ** wanna blow money on a bed right now? Because it didn't sound like that to me, and you convinced me I don't wanna either.”

And the thing is, no, Kurt doesn't. For all the reasons he named earlier. He wants to save as much money as he, as  ** they ** can, in order to pay rent for as long as possible. Sure, he wants money for food too, but considering he cleaned out the kitchen before leaving home that's less of a problem. They can tough it out on a strict food budget, if they have to, but they can't really skimp on rent. And Kurt really wants a roof over his head.

“ Are you sure you want to do this?” Kurt asks. 

Because as much as what Puck is suggesting makes sense, it's also completely crazy, and really, really scary.

“ It'll be fine. We can always buy me a mattress once we get more money. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?”

And crap. Famous last words there.

  
  


It all works surprisingly well. Their life is by no means luxurious – but it's better than a lot of the options.

When not at work Kurt studies – he might not be able to enroll in high school right then, but that's not an excuse to ignore his education – or he and Puck play around with music. There's just their voices and Puck's guitar, but it's fun, and soothing, and familiar, and they sound good together. It reminds Kurt of his parents playing Simon and Garfunkel in the car, and god, it hurts, but it's the good kind of hurt.

He wants to keep those memories.

Before long Kurt finds more work. He visits an LGBT center, starts talking to some of the others, and one thing leads to another, or in this case a position as a barista. It's not full time, but it pays well enough for them to stop worrying about food. Combined with the fact that Puck's popular enough for a promise of more hours soon it makes Kurt rest a little easier at night.

And speaking of nights, well, Kurt comes to appreciate sharing a bed with Puck in more ways than he could have ever believed. When the temperature drops outside they keep the heat on as low as they dare, to save money, meaning shared body heat is a blessing. And then, of course, it's the comfort of having another person there when you break down. Which Kurt does. Repeatedly.

He loses count of how many times he wakes up, crying in Puck's arms, or falls asleep that way. Honestly? He doesn't really care how often it happens, because it helps. Besides, it's not completely one-sided. Puck sheds his share of tears too, and Kurt's more than willing to return the favor and open his arms to the other boy.

(He doesn't ask what Puck's tears are about, but. Beth's the obvious answer, sure, but Kurt knows that Puck has a little sister, and it hasn't escaped his attention that she hasn't come up. At all. That's kind of telling, isn't it?)

They might not have much, but they have each other, and that's what keeps Kurt going.

Of course, things aren't quite as easy as that. Grief might have initially curbed Kurt's libido, but while his heart keeps suffering, his body recovers. And once it does, sharing a bed with Puck becomes hard. Pun unintended, but definitely true.

There's never been any doubt about Puck being attractive, but, well. Bullying doesn't exactly rock Kurt's world. And yes, he's aware of how that sounds, considering his crush on Finn. He's also aware of the amount of mental gymnastics he did to excuse Finn's involvement in the dumpster tosses, and everything else. He knows. Just... Finn always came across as a nice guy who really didn't want to be a bully, and made Kurt think he was open to being approached. Besides, he changed.

Puck on the other hand never invited to being crushed on, or anything else for that matter, but he too has changed. Now Kurt knows him, knows Noah, and yeah. It's not as easy to dismiss him as “good looking, but” any longer.

Not when Kurt spends nights with Puck's arms around him, when the smell of him makes Kurt salivate, when his breath skitters across Kurt's neck and pebbles his nipples, and when he's sometimes just as hard as Kurt.

Keeping his body's responses to all of this as discrete as possible, and his feelings of “attractive, but a/ my friend and b/ straight” from turning into a full-blown crush is hell, but Kurt's determined to do it. He is not going to lose the one person in the world he still has. Not over something as stupid as sex.

He can do it. He knows he can. He's better than all those horrible, prejudiced stereotypes. He can be just friends with an attractive guy, even if said guy rubs his hard-on against Kurt's body and causes the most delicious indecent dreams.

Right?

  
  


It all comes crashing down about a month and a half after their arrival in Portland. Kurt wakes up, hard and with the remains of a sex dream floating around in his head. Both are more common than not these days, so he's not too surprised. What does come as a surprise is his position.

Instead of being curled up on his side, as he usually is, Kurt's spread out on top of Puck, one leg trapped between Puck's, and one hand underneath Puck's tank top. When he tries to sneak away he notices two things: Puck's grip on him won't let him, and they're both hard. And then, as he tries to figure out what to do next, Puck opens his eyes and looks straight at him.

Kurt's first reaction is to close his eyes in panic, and swear internally. This is it. They've had such a nice thing going, and now his stupid body is ruining it all. He keeps his eyes closed, waiting for the yelling, and more importantly for being pushed away, but nothing happens. Seconds tick by, and Puck just lies there.

Until he doesn't, until he moves his hands, one of which find its way to Kurt's hair and the other to his ass, and Kurt can barely breathe, because this? This isn't happening. Maybe he's still asleep?

Puck's hand press down a little, pushing Kurt's head down, and then there are warm lips and moist air against Kurt's throat, and he bites back a whimper. Puck's other hand mimics the movement, just more careful, and their groins press together.

That's where Kurt's resolve breaks, and he pushes down with a quiet moan.

The rest is just sound and movement, Kurt's body getting what it's desired for so long.

  
  


Afterwards, once they've cleaned up and Puck's fallen asleep again, Kurt lies on his back and stares at the ceiling with his head both empty and too full at the same time.

_ Now what? _

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


When Puck wakes up again, Kurt’s already gone. It’s Thursday, so Kurt has a morning shift at the coffee shop. It’s not nearly the first time Puck’s woken up alone since Kurt got the barista job, but it feels different this time. He doesn’t like it.

Puck gets out of bed, showers, and gets dressed. He tries to remember song lyrics, so that he’s not thinking about anything else. Today is not a good day to think about anything, but especially the thing that just happened in the bed he’s been sharing with Kurt for the past six weeks.

Nope, Puck is definitely not thinking about it.

He doesn’t think at all about how if Kurt kicks him out, it won’t be too long before Puck goes crawling back to Lima, back to his mother’s house, back to his old friends and seeing Quinn every day and just…

It’s been six weeks since he spoke to his mother. She might find that an unforgivable offense, knowing her. No, there’s no use in going back to Lima. Mom would just kick him back out on his ass again, no one else would take him in, except maybe the juvenile detention system.

Puck has to stay here in Portland. He’s got to stick it out somehow, and that means not at all thinking about what happened with Kurt. Not until he has to, at least.

He leaves the apartment several hours too early for his shift at Tiger’s Eye, the bar and grill where he’s been bartending. He figures he’ll just show up, and see if Tony needs him to help with the lunch time crowd. It’s an easy walk, even though it’s been cloudy and drizzling for the past two weeks straight. It’s not as cold as Lima this time of year, so Puck counts that as a plus.

When Puck walks in the door of Tiger’s Eye, Janet gives him a friendly nod, and Tony calls out, “Noah! You’re not on until 6!”

“ I know,” Puck says, sitting down at the bar across from Tony. Now that the last name on his ID is Greene, rather than Puckerman, his old nickname doesn’t make any sense. He’s been going as Noah since he started this job, and he’s actually starting to get used to it. “I could use some more hours, if you could use the help.”

Frowning, Tony leans on the bar and narrows his eyes at Puck. “What happened?”

Puck’s surprised expression catches him off guard before he’s able to school it back into something more neutral. “ ** Nothing ** ,” he insists, though he can tell he’s not even fooling Jerry, the drunk halfway down the bar who’ll listen to anyone about anything. Tony’s raised eyebrow reflects that same disbelief.

With a sigh, Puck shrugs. “I don’t know. Things are weird with my roommate.”

Janet sits down on the stool next to Puck’s, her back resting against the bar. “You mean your  ** boyfriend ** ? It’s okay, sweetie. You can call him that with us.”

“ Yeah, whatever,” Puck replies. Ever since Lorraine, their landlord, mistook Puck and Kurt for a couple, Puck’s gotten used to not correcting people who make that same assumption. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just want to work.”

Janet makes a disappointed noise, but Tony narrows his eyes even further and points at Puck. “What you need is some good, hard, mindless work. How about you clean out the store room? It’s getting too dusty in there. God help us if the health inspector went in there next time she makes a surprise inspection.”

Chuckling, Puck asks, “Do they really do that? I thought it was something made up for, you know, TV or something.”

With a loud guffaw, Tony points Puck toward the back. “Oh, Noah. It’s true, my young friend. It’s very true.”

Puck spends most of the day dusting and scrubbing and moving around kegs and boxes of liquor. It’s good work, but not quite enough to keep his mind off of Kurt and the way he’d tasted and felt. Eventually, Puck decides he’s just going to roll with it. Whatever. It happened. A lot of things have happened to Puck, and this definitely isn’t the worst of them. Not by a long shot.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Puck finishes mixing drinks for the couple at the end of the bar, and as he delivers them, he sees Kurt, standing near the door. Kurt’s holding two paper coffee cups, and he looks kind of terrified. Shit.

Turning toward Tony, Puck asks, “Okay if I take my break now?”

Tony catches sight of Kurt, before grinning at Puck. “Sure thing, Noah. Go get ‘im, buddy.”

Puck rolls his eyes and wipes his hands on a bar rag before rounding the bar and meeting Kurt halfway back across the room. “Hey.”

Hey,” Kurt replies, shoving one of the cups at Puck. “It’s getting late, so I figured hot chocolate?”

Puck is genuinely touched that Kurt thought to bring him anything. He says, “Probably could’ve used the caffeine to make it to two when my shift is over, but thanks.” Taking the cup, Puck wraps his hands around it and breathes in the deep chocolate aroma escaping through the sipping hole in the lid.

Tilting his head toward one of the small tables at the edge of the room, Puck says, “You wanna talk?”

“ We should,” Kurt says with a nod. He follows Puck toward the table, taking the seat directly across from Puck’s as they sit. Kurt takes a moment, playing with the paper sleeve on his coffee for a while. He’s got his lips pressed together tightly, like he’s holding in a whole fountain of words.

Puck winces and waits for those words to fall down on his head, but they never come. Kurt’s actually speechless, and looking more uncomfortable by the moment.

Shit.

“ Look,” Puck says, reaching across the table and putting his hand on Kurt’s wrist, by reflex rather than conscious decision. “It’s just one of those things, right? I’m cool with it if you are.”

Kurt’s head snaps up, his eyes searching Puck’s face. “Really?”

“ Yeah,” Puck assures Kurt, squeezing his wrist again. Out of the corner of his eye, Puck sees Tony watching them, this dopey, dreamy look on his face. Shit, if everyone thinks Kurt is Puck’s boyfriend, Puck might as well get something out of the situation, right?

He smiles at Kurt and says, “In a purely friends-with-benefits way, I wouldn’t mind if it happened again.”

The lighting in the bar is fairly dim, but Puck’s sure Kurt’s blushing up a storm. “O-okay,” Kurt stutters, licking his lips nervously. Fuck, Puck wants to kiss those lips so damn hard. “I mean, that would be nice. It’s not like there’s many opportunities to meet boys here.” Kurt scoffs in a cutely-frustrated way. “I mean, there kind of is, but even if I did start dating a boy, what would I tell him about where I’m from?”

“ Yeah, right?” Puck replies, though his brain is still stuck on the thought that Kurt has dating opportunities. The thought bothers him, but for the life of him, Puck can’t figure out why.

Kurt smiles, and Puck gets the feeling that he said the right thing. It makes his chest feel warm, and Puck tells himself it’s the hot chocolate he hasn’t started drinking yet.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Puck swings Kurt’s forgotten keyring around on his index finger as he walks into Tess’s Café. Puck’s going to be at Tiger’s Eye by the time Kurt gets off work, so Puck left early enough to drop them off before he heads to work.

There’s an extra bounce in Puck’s step as he walks, and it’s no doubt the fact that it’s been almost two weeks since he and Kurt started fooling around. There’ve been more nights of fooling around than nights they haven’t had their hands on each other, and Puck has to admit, he likes it a lot more than he figured he would.

Five steps into the café, Puck stops short. Kurt is talking to a guy. He’s not just talking to this guy, he’s having a grand old time talking to this guy.

No, they’re not talking, Puck realizes. They’re flirting. This jackass is flirting with Kurt, and it’s making Kurt tuck back his bangs, his cheeks all flushed like they get when Puck jerks him off. This stranger shouldn’t be making Kurt blush like this. That’s Puck’s job.

Striding the rest of the way to Kurt, Puck slides his arm around Kurt’s shoulders and holds out his keys. “Hey, babe. You left these at home this morning.”

“ Oh, my keys!” Kurt cries out, snatching them from Puck’s hand. “Thank you, Noah!” He doesn’t try to duck away from Puck’s arm around his shoulders or anything.

When the other guy narrows his eyes at Puck, Puck gives his best gloating grin.  _ Yeah, dude. This guy here is mine, not yours. _ Puck wishes he still had his Mohawk, because it would make scaring off this guy even easier.

Even so, the guy swallows nervously. “Kurt? Who’s your friend?”

Kurt’s shoulders under Puck’s arm tense, but he doesn’t step away from Puck. Instead, Kurt clears his throat and then says, “Ethan, this is Noah. We live together.” Puck doesn’t miss the way Kurt forgoes the word “roommate”, and instead implies his relationship with Puck is very serious. “Noah, this is Ethan. He’s in my GED class.”

Puck sticks forward his hand, determined to be as friendly as possible, because he’s sure it’ll piss off this Ethan guy and scare him off for good. “Good to meet you, Ethan.”

“ Uh, you too.” Ethan says, shaking Puck’s hand briefly, and then grabbing up his things from the table behind him. “I’d better get going. See you in class, Kurt.”

As he leaves, Ethan gives Puck a nervous nod, and then he’s beating his retreat out the door.

Covering his face with one hand, Kurt giggles and hits Puck’s chest with the other. “You scared him away!” Kurt sounds more amused than mad, so Puck smiles.

“ Good. I’m glad I scared him away,” Puck says, taking Kurt’s hand down away from his face.

Smiling, and shaking his head, Kurt puts his hands on his hips. “Can I no longer take you out in public? Ethan’s just a friend.” Kurt raises his eyebrows as his smile fades.

“ Looked like he wanted to be more than a friend,” Puck points out. Surely Kurt can’t be  ** that ** clueless.

Kurt watches Puck’s face for what feels like forever. “Why do you care about that?”

“ I  ** don’t ** ,” Puck insists, shoving his hands in his pockets. “He just seemed like a punk, you know? Not good enough for you.”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes and a scoff, Kurt pushes on Puck’s shoulder. He’s smiling again, so Puck lets out the breath he’d been holding. Kurt says, “Well, now that you’re done defending my honor, you should get to work. Thanks for bringing by my keys.”

“ No problem, babe.” Without really thinking why he does it, Puck darts forward and kisses Kurt on the lips just before turning and leaving. As he goes, he sees more than one patron watching him, which makes his face heat up. He ducks down into his scarf and walks a little faster.

He’s got to get to work on time, anyway.

  
  


o—O---O--o

  
  


Kurt wants to crawl out of his skin. To claw it off and leave it behind as he disappears into thin air. Evaporates. And it's all his own fault too.

He never should have allowed this thing with Puck to, well,  ** become ** a thing. What they share feels great – and at the same time it makes him feel like shit. The physical part is better than anything Kurt has ever imagined, and always makes him soar. It's when he comes down that's the problem.

At the top of Kurt's wish list for years now has been a boyfriend. Someone to hold hands with, and kiss, who'll love him just as much as Kurt obviously will love him. (And yes, someone to have sex with as well.) He wanted what he saw others have. And now... Now he has a twisted version of that wish.

Puck will give him everything physical when they're in bed together, and has no problem with the fact that a lot of people think that they're dating. Hell, he even encourages it sometimes. Lorraine might have come to the conclusion of her own, but Puck's colleagues? Kurt's pretty sure they had help. He knows  ** his ** colleagues did.

It's just that no matter how Puck acts, both in bed and in public, they really aren't dating. They're just friends who also have sex. And as great as that sometimes is, it's not what Kurt really wants. It's not what he needs.

He wants a real boyfriend. He wants actual dating. Only he can't have that. Not now. Ethan and his flirting drove that point home.

Kurt might be naïve, but he's not completely blind. It was obvious that Ethan was gearing up to ask Kurt out, and Kurt had even been considering it, until he'd jokingly called Kurt “Mr Evans”. Hello wake-up call.

Ethan doesn't know his real name. Hell, he doesn't know Kurt's real age, or much of anything. After all the talks they've had Ethan probably  ** thinks ** he knows Kurt, but out of everything Kurt's said, only three things are true: his first name, his sexuality, and his love for music.

Everything else has been a lie.

And even if Kurt was to ignore that, well, sooner or later Ethan – or some other potential boyfriend – would start to think it was strange to never be invited to Kurt's home. The one he, you know, shares with Puck. That, even should they stop sharing a bed, is small for two young men that are just friends. Oh, and where everyone thinks he and Puck are dating.

Yeah, no.

Because Kurt doesn't just want a relationship, he wants a healthy one, and that's why he would have turned Ethan down even without Puck walking in and acting like his boyfriend (and what even was that about?). Doesn't mean his longing is any less.

And speaking of healthy... As much as he enjoys being with Puck, Kurt is beginning to see that it's probably far from healthy. Maybe some people can have sex and not feel something for the other person. Puck clearly can. Kurt however can't. At least not with the person who's become his best friend.

Kurt's falling in love with Puck, and he's falling both hard and fast.

It's a fucking disaster, is what it is.

  
  


After his revelation Kurt tries to end things with Puck. He truly does. Or he intends to, any way. He just never gets there. He starts the conversation, Puck gets this look in his eyes, and then they're having sex. It's not until after two weeks of that same pattern repeating itself that Kurt realizes that the look is desperation. It's as if Puck is willing to do just about anything to keep things from changing.

Kurt doesn't get it. They'll still be in this together, still be friends even if they stop sleeping with each other. And it's not like Puck can't find another sex partner without even trying. So why would Puck be so determined to keep up the status quo?

Except he's not, not really. The more time passes, the more Puck starts acting like an actual boyfriend when they're out together, and soon there's no one in Kurt's life who doesn't know he's in a committed relationship. Which wouldn't be a problem, if only it was true. Oh, and if Kurt understood what was going on in Puck's head.

Then again, what's new? Water is wet, fashion has no gender, and Kurt has no idea what Puck thinks. Not even months of living together, of sleeping together, has changed that. Not when it comes to this.

He finally flips two days before Valentine's. He's worked a full day at the coffee shop, listening to people go on and on about their plans, or worse, trying to find out what  ** his ** plans are. Because of course Kurt has to have plans for Valentine's Day, and of course he has to be wondering what Puck's plans are, because of course no one knows they're not for real.

So yes, it's fair to say Kurt's mood isn't exactly the best when he finds Puck waiting for him after his shift is done. He keeps his temper in check until they get home, but that's how far as his control goes.

“ We need to go out tomorrow and buy a mattress.”

And well. That was not how he'd intended to handle this. Apparently plans are for the weak.

Puck's frozen in front of him, and when he turns around the expression on his face makes Kurt uncomfortable.

“ What?”

“ I said–”

“ Yeah, I heard. I just don't get what you're talking about. Why would we need that? Did something happen to the one we have, and you just didn't tell me?”

Kurt does his best to rein in his temper, and his sharp tongue. Just because he wants to stop fooling around and playing at a fake relationship doesn't mean he wants to ruin their very real friendship. So, he needs to keep calm.

“ No. It's time we get you a bed of your own though. It's not like we can't afford it any longer.” He sees Puck open his mouth, and quickly adds, “I just think it's for the best, okay? This,” he gestures between them, and then towards the bed, “isn't working any longer.”

“ No. You can't just say that, Kurt. Okay? You just can't. Where did that come from, even? Did Ethan come sniffing around again? Or some other guy maybe? Is this what this is about, you wanting to find someone else?”

Kurt can't even respond to that one, because what do you even say? He wants to, and he doesn't, but it's not like he can just come out and  ** say ** that. Not if he wants to keep Puck as his friend.

“ I see. Do you want me to move out too?”

The question comes like a slap, unexpected and shocking, and hurts like one too. Puck move out? Kurt reaches out for Puck's hand, instinctively, and then pulls back. He doesn't have that right anymore. Hell, it's not like he had that before.

“ Kurt...”

“ I'm sorry! You're my best friend, and I don't want to lose you, and I don't want you to move out either, but... I don't want to lose you.”

“ Then don't! Don't push me away. Fuck, don't  ** throw ** me away! If you want to keep me, then  ** keep ** ** me ** , Kurt. Not this. Not fucking this.”

Kurt's calm is disappearing fast, is practically gone already, and there's a lump in his throat. He wants to cry, cry the way he did when they were new together and the loss of his dad was still fresh. Because that's apparently how bad losing Puck would be – like losing his dad.

“ I want to. I really want to. But Puck – Noah. I can't. Not like this. You're the most important person in the world to me now, and if we keep doing this, then, then I  ** will ** lose you. Or me.”

Puck's looking wild, like Kurt feels, and the way his hands are flexing Kurt thinks he's on the verge of gripping Kurt's shoulders, shaking him.

“ I don't understand. What are you saying, what are you thinking? You're not going to lose me, not unless you make it happen. Just, what's going on, Kurt? Talk to me. Please?”

“ I'm falling in love with you.” The words fall out, almost on their own, as if Kurt's got nothing to do with them. They come in a whisper, barely audible at all, but Puck hears them anyway. Kurt can  ** see ** that he hears them, in the way his shoulders stiffen and his mouth falls open.

He braces himself for the rejection, for the “I like you, but”. Braces himself for getting his heart ripped out and stomped on. Puck won't mean to, Kurt knows, but that won't make the pain any less. Rejection hurts, regardless.

And what if Puck decides that having Kurt be in love with him is too much? What if this pushes him over the edge, away from Noah and back to the old Puck? Away from Kurt? That's what's sure to happen, isn't it? Puck will decide that while fooling around is fine and dandy, that sex is sex, having a boy be in love with him simply is too gay. And then he'll walk out, leaving Kurt empty and alone.

It's only years of practice that hold the sobs back as he waits for the ax to fall.

“ I'm falling in love with you too.”

Kurt's head snaps up, fast enough to be painful, and he stares at Puck. He's hearing things, right? Wishful thinking is causing him to have auditory hallucinations.  ** Right ** ? Because that has to be the only option. Kurt's simply not capable of imagining anything else.

Only Puck's eyes are as shiny as his own feels, and there are a few tears that have already spilled down his cheeks, but there's a crooked smile on his lips, and the way he looks at Kurt... The way he looks at Kurt almost  ** hurts ** with how full of something  ** good ** it is.

“ Oh.”

“ Yeah. Oh.”

They just stand there, staring at each other like fools, until Puck stumbles forward and Kurt opens his arms to catch him.

He always wants to catch him.

  
  


o--O---O--o

  
  


Noah watches the Lima streets pass as Kurt drives them through town in their rented coupe. He turns the ring on his left hand with his thumb, still not quite used to it, even almost a year later. “This place is so shitty,” he says to Kurt.

“ Regretting our return?” Kurt asks, turning on the blinker and changing lanes to make the turn toward the high school. “We could just go visit with your sister and then head back to Columbus until our flight Monday morning.”

“ After spending half our savings on the fucking plane tickets?” Noah scoffs. “Yeah, no thanks, babe. We’re going to this damn reunion.”

“ Did Lindsey get a look at the RSVPs? Does she have any idea who’s going to be there?” Kurt stops at the traffic light just past the school, since they have to go around back to get to the parking lot.

Shaking his head, Noah says, “Nah. Apparently one of the old cheerleaders is the one organizing it, not the school. There wasn’t any RSVP list when she broke into the Admin office.”

Kurt scoffs. “I don’t like you encouraging your sister to break the law.”

“ I didn’t encourage anything,” Noah insists, throwing up his hands. “I swear I didn’t. She just does this stuff on her own.”

“ Kind of like how she tracked us down?” Kurt says with a sly smile as he turns the corner onto Pine.

Returning Kurt’s smile, Noah puts his hand on Kurt’s knee. “We knew after we turned 18 and we started using our real names again, someone was going to find us eventually.”

“ I’m glad it was her.” Kurt turns the next corner, just a block away from the parking lot now. “It was nice having her at the wedding.”

Noah nods, watching as they head down the long driveway, holding his breath, like he’s going to recognize someone at any second. He carefully doesn’t think about how Noah’s mother certainly didn’t come to the wedding, even though Noah had invited her. Whatever. At least Noah knows he was right to leave without telling her where he was going.

Kurt parks the car and Noah realizes this is it. “Remind me why we’re doing this?”

“ To stick it to the man,” Kurt replies, his tone even and mundane. When he finishes turning off the car, he looks over at Noah and grins. “Or at least to the people who said we’d never make anything of ourselves.”

Noah sighs and laces his fingers with Kurt’s. “What if everyone has done even better than us? It’s been almost twelve years since we left, and it’s not like I’m a rock star now. I barely even–”

“ Don’t start, Noah,” Kurt insists, squeezing Puck’s hand. “We both got our diplomas. We both got bachelor’s degrees, and we did it all on our own. Almost everyone else had money and support from their families. We had that crappy studio downtown, and each other. No one can say we didn’t work twice as hard to get where we are.”

“ That’s true.” Noah pats the pocket of his suit jacket, making sure his phone is there, and it is. “I’ve got all the pictures as proof.”

Kurt squeezes Noah’s hand once more with a decisive nod. “Then let’s rock this bitch.”

Chuckling at Kurt’s faux-badass tone, Noah nods back and lets go of Kurt’s hand as they climb out of the car. The air outside the car  ** smells ** like Lima, which strikes Puck as the weirdest thing. Over the car, Noah tells Kurt, “I think I got used to the shit-smell of the paper mills back home.”

Kurt laughs, rounding the car and holding out his hand. Noah takes it automatically. “Are you saying Lima smells better than Portland?”

“ No, never,” Noah replies, because while the paper smell is lacking, it’s replaced by the smells of diesel exhaust and whatever fertilizer they put on the sports fields this year.

Although there are a few other classmates walking toward the school building, none of whom Noah remembers the names of, no one recognizes them. “Are we sure we got the right year?”

“ Yes, we’re sure,” Kurt insists, wrapping his free hand around Noah’s bicep and leaning into him as they line up for their name tags. “See? That’s Artie up there at the table.”

Noah looks around some guy and does notice Artie sitting behind the table, talking to whoever’s at the front of the line. “He looks  ** exactly  ** the same,” Noah says, pressing his face against Kurt’s shoulder so no one sees him laughing. “How is that even possible?”

“ Radon in the water,” Kurt deadpans, stepping forward as they get one person closer to the table.

Another minute, and they’re there, standing across the table from Artie, and some woman Noah thinks he should probably remember. Artie’s jaw drops and he says, “No way! Kurt? When Heather showed me your RSVP, I thought it was one of the jocks playing a joke!”

“ No, it’s me,” Kurt says, folding his hands under his chin and tilting his head. Noah puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his guffaw. “Maybe you’ll recognize my husband, as well?”

Noah watches Artie’s gaze slide over from Kurt to him, confusion furrowing his brows. Then, all of a sudden, his face lights up. “Puck?”

“ Hey,” Noah says. “It’s been awhile since anyone called me ‘Puck’, though.”

“ You guys are married?” Artie asks, leaning forward in his chair. “To  ** each other ** ?” He gasps, putting a hand over his mouth. “Is that why you two ran away together?”

Noah looks over at Kurt, who meets Noah’s eyes briefly. He smirks, and says, “Technically,  ** I’m ** the one who ran away. Noah tagged along.”

Putting his arm around Kurt’s waist and resting his chin on Kurt’s shoulder, Noah says, “Oh, please. You know you wouldn’t have made it very far without me.”

“ That’s probably true,” Kurt says, kissing Noah’s cheek.

Artie bangs into the table as he wheels himself away from it. “I’ve gotta go get the others!” He looks even paler than Noah remembers, like he’s seen a ghost.

The woman at the table, Noah thinks he remembers Artie calling her Heather, says in a very disinterested voice, “Find your name tags and put them on, please.”

Noah scans the name tags laid out on the table, and finds his just says, “Puck.” Kurt’s, on the other hand, says, “Kurt Hummel,” which makes Kurt get this smug look on his face. To make things right, Noah takes a pen out of his pocket (he’d started carrying one around out of habit). He takes the paper out of the name tag, turns it around, and writes, “Noah Puckerman Hummel” on the back. He slips the tag back into the plastic holder and then hands it to Kurt. “Put it on straight for me, babe?”

“ I’ll do my best,” Kurt replies, taking Noah’s lapel in one hand and the tag in the other. While he’s perfecting the positioning of the tag, several people come running up to them.

Finn, of course, is the first. “Puck! Kurt!” he cries, wrapping his long arms around both of them. “Where did you go? I looked everywhere for you guys. The sheriff said you were probably dead!”

Noah gets a little bit of guilt at making Finn worry, but really it was for the best. If Noah would’ve stuck around, he probably would’ve been a bad influence on Finn, not nearly the best friend he should’ve been.

Tina’s there too, her arms wrapped tightly around Kurt’s waist. Mike claps Noah on the shoulder, and Santana punches him, saying, “You deserve that, Puckerman. I cried because of you!”

“ Sorry!” Noah says with a laugh, rubbing his arm.

Mercedes pulls him down toward her, ruffling her hand through his hair. “What happened to the Mohawk?”

“ It didn’t really fly during business school,” Noah replies, not really liking the distance between himself and Kurt.

Mercedes asks, “Business school?,” just as Brittany picks up his hand and raises it up so everyone can see, “Puck got married!”

Santana flicks at Puck’s name tag. “Noah Puckerman Hummel, hey? Guys! Puck married Kurt!”

“ I  ** told ** you guys they ran away to be gay together!” Artie cries, just as Kurt pushes his way through the crowd to get back to Noah.

“ Get your hands off my husband, everyone!” Kurt cries, though he’s laughing as Tina tries to kiss his cheek.

Through the rest of the night, Noah and Kurt take turns telling their old friends about the life they made for themselves in Portland. They’d both worked and saved money until they turned eighteen and could resume their real names without worrying about anyone trying to make them go back. Kurt got his GED first and went to community college, then fashion school. Noah could’ve kept bartending forever, probably, but as Kurt kept getting better and better educated, Noah didn’t want to be left behind.

“ So, business school?” Santana asks, taking the drink her plus one, Natasha, hands to her. “How’d you do that?”

“ Very slowly,” Noah replies with a laugh. “I started out in night school, eventually worked my way up to a real college. But two years ago, Kurt and I were able to open our own shop. We’re still above water, financially, which is encouraging. People really seem to dig Kurt’s designs.” He looks Santana up and down, and can’t quite get over how grown up she looks, and he wonders if people are thinking the same thing about him. “So what are you doing?”

“ I’m a corporate lawyer,” she says. “Working in New York.” Leaning closer, she whispers, “Natasha’s a go-go dancer. Twenty-three. I’m pretty much her sugar mama.”

Noah laughs, glad Santana seems to be living the life she’s suited for. “Congratulations.”

Taking another sip of her drink, she studies Noah for a moment. Then she asks, “So, were you really gay for Hummel when you left all those years ago?”

“ No,” Noah says, shaking his head, “but I really needed  ** out ** , you know? So did he.” Shrugging, Noah adds, “We just sort of built a life together, fell in love, end of story.”

“ That’s nice,” Santana says, sneaking a glance over her shoulder to where Natasha is talking to Finn’s girlfriend. Noah thinks she looks almost wistful.

A familiar hand lands on Noah’s shoulder, and when he looks up, Kurt asks, “May I have this dance, Mr. Hummel?”

“ Of course, Mr. Puckerman,” Noah says, letting Kurt help him up out of his chair. As Kurt pulls him close out on the dance floor, Noah chuckles and says, “This is a little different from dancing in our living room.”

“ Yeah, it is,” Kurt says with a laugh. “I think we shocked everyone, coming back the way we did.”

“ So you’re glad we came?” Noah asks, pulling Kurt’s arm up above his head and directing him into a slow spin, which of course Kurt executes flawlessly.

“ I am,” Kurt nods. “It’s been great catching up with everyone, especially Finn. Did you know that a year after Finn graduated, Carole married some dentist?”

“ Good for her.” Noah replies. He knows from his sister that his own mother has yet to remarry. Noah doesn’t think anyone would have her, but that’s a thought he doesn’t need to dwell on now. Or ever.

Kurt nuzzles the tip of his nose against Noah’s cheek. “Are you glad we came?”

Noah thinks about the question for a moment. He’d been worried his accomplishments wouldn’t match up against those of his old friends, but now that he’s here, he doesn’t feel insecure in the least. Finn’s a music teacher, Mike’s a backup dancer, Tina’s a motivational speaker, Artie’s a sound engineer, Santana’s a lawyer, Mercedes has a few moderately-well-selling albums, and Brittany works in a nursing home. Rachel isn’t here, and neither is Quinn, and no one has really talked about either of those absences. “Yeah, I think so,” he tells Kurt. Pressing his face against Kurt’s shoulder and neck, Noah adds, “It would be kind of nice to see Beth again, but I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

“ Maybe not this trip,” Kurt replies. “We could try contacting Shelby again. See if Beth wants to meet you.”

With a scoff, Noah says, “Like we’re  ** ever ** coming back here.”

“ There’s always the next reunion in another five years.”

Noah laughs. “You’re right, babe. You’re absolutely right.”

Dancing with his husband in their old school gym, Noah sighs. “I’m glad I ran away with you, Mr. Puckerman.”

Kurt kisses Noah, one of ten thousand kisses they’ve shared over the past eleven and a half years. “Me too, Mr. Hummel. Me too.”

  
  


The End

  
  
  


 


End file.
